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Summary
Sequel to Waling in the Dark. Mornings after are never what you expect them to be.
Series
- Part 1 of Walking in the Dark Series
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Bookmark Notes:
Taking a deep breath, Harold gave his partner the truth, "One person hardly constitutes a type."
"What do you mean one person?"
"I mean Grace. A type implies that someone is attracted to a series of people who share specific attributes, like blond hair or dark skin or biker tattoos."
"So your other lovers weren't artistic free spirits?" John asked with that warm tone in his voice that had been wreaking havoc with Harold's control for the last six months.
Trying to hide how every muscle in his body tensed up, Harold gave a negative shake of his head. Remembering his promise never to lie to John, he braced himself and self-consciously offered, "I've only been intimate with two people in my life."
John's eyes widened in shock. After a quiet moment, he asked, "Grace and Nathan?"
It was a logical conclusion. Totally wrong, of course.
"Grace and you," Harold corrected. Knowing what this experienced, handsome man must be thinking of him, he reminded John, "I wasn't lying when I told you I wasn't good at human interaction."
Feeling utterly exposed, Harold stared down at the decimated breakfast before him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when John's hand gently covered his clenched fist on the table. Almost afraid of what he'd see, he looked up and met John's eyes.
John wasn't staring at him like he was some kind of freak or joke. Harold had only seen glimpses of the expression John was wearing once or twice in their association, usually when something unexpected had nearly ripped the man's heart out.
Just like he had last night, John swallowed him down, seeming eager for every drop.
Harold's orgasm seemed to go on forever. Halfway through it, John gave a strange grunt that vibrated through Harold's cock. An instant later, warm, wet spurts splattered against Harold's left leg.
Stunned, Harold realized that John had come again . . . just from sucking him off.
The last of Harold's hurtful insecurities melted to gooey softness at that unbelievable discovery. He didn't understand how it was possible, but this incredibly handsome man clearly desired his broken body. In some ways, that knowledge was more healing than the sex.
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